Page 60 of Depths of Hunger

“So, this is how it is,” I say, my voice cold and filled with contempt.

What?Luca’s voice buzzes in my head, tinged with confusion and anger.

That’s Miller—the turned vampire who took Berlin,I inform him, my thoughts racing.

Fucking hell,Nico snarls as he and Luca shift, positioning themselves to survey the entire Duomo. We all know we’re already surrounded. The thick, metallic scent of blood fills the air. My stomach churns as the realization hits—my men are dead. They’ve slaughtered them like animals.

“You teamed up with this scum,” I snarl at Luigi, my voice thick with disgust. “That’s how they knew where I’d be to shoot me and where my brothers would be to gas them. You’ve put Pippa’s life at risk. She’s been like a daughter to you.” And he hurt Mia. For that alone he will die in the most agonizing way.

Luigi gives a small, dismissive shrug. “That was unavoidable. She’s fine.”

“Is she?” I snap. “What do you get out of this, Luigi?” I sense Miller and his men closing in, their footsteps echoing in the vast, hollow space of the Duomo. The frescoes on the walls—saints and demons locked in eternal battle—seem to watch us, their painted eyes condemning. Then it hits me like a punch to the gut. “Immortality oras close as you can get. You think they’re going to save your wife. That’s what they promised, didn’t they? Eternal life for you and Louisa, in exchange for the lives of me and my brothers.”

Luigi doesn’t respond, but the truth is etched into his posture. His shoulders are tense, his body rigid with resolve and desperation. He would betray everything for Louisa.

“Luigi, you realize you’ll become a demon too. Are you ready for that?” I ask, my voice cold.

“To save Louisa, I’m ready to deal with anything,” Luigi snaps, taking a step back to make room for Miller.

“Well, I have news for you, Luigi. Miller isn’t going to turn you. It doesn’t work like that. To him you’re just a loose end—someone who could talk. He’s going to kill you.”

Luigi glances nervously at Miller, who stands back and crosses his arms over his chest, watching with detached amusement. Miller’s men have surrounded us completely, their stench thick and suffocating. I count ten turned vampires, all of whom reek of death and decay.

“He’s going to keep his word. We made a deal. There’s more to it than you know,” Luigi says, raising his chin defiantly, though his voice wavers.

“I highly doubt that.” I sneer. “But it doesn’t matter because you’re not getting turned.”

Luigi’s eyes narrow, rage flickering in his gaze. “I fucking am, and there’s not a goddamn thing you can do about it,” he snarls, stepping forward.

“Except this.” My voice is deadly calm as I lash out, my nails extending into razor-sharp claws. In one swift motion, I rip out his throat, blood spraying across the aisle and splattering the ancient stone floor. Luigi’s lifeless body crumples, landing in the pool of his own blood. Not the slow agonizing death I’d been thinking for him. But the bloodlust was too overwhelming to take his life at leisure.

I lift my gaze to Miller, my eyes blazing. “I don’t tolerate traitors.”

Miller grins, revealing his fangs, a twisted smirk that sends a shiver through the room. “I’ve heard that about you. And you were right—Luigi was never going to be turned.”

“So, what does Berlin want with Northern Italy?” I ask, trying to piece together the motive. “They’re far apart—not exactly a smart move to consolidate power.”

Miller’s smile is cold, calculating. “I don’t want Northern Italy. These men do.” He gestures to the circle of vampires, and one of them steps forward. His face is vaguely familiar—dark eyes, sharp features. I can sense the danger radiating off him.

Albanians, Nico growls, recognizing him immediately.

The pieces click into place, and my blood runs cold. “Ah, now I understand. The Albanians want my family’s seat of power in Venezia. They want to be one of the Fondatori kingsandtake over as the head of the Valdicifamigliain Northern Italy. King of two worlds. That’s the plan, isn’t it?”

“It’s the smartest move,” Miller admits, his tone casual, as if we’re discussing the weather. “You’ve done an impressive job building your empire. Now seems like a good time to step in. Not that I’m doing the stepping, of course.”

“Of course not. You’re just facilitating,” I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Exactly.” Miller’s eyes glint with amusement.

Every muscle in my body tenses as I resist the urge to lunge for Miller’s throat. He’s baiting me, and I know it. He’ll see any attack coming. The dread in my brothers is palpable, mirroring the fear that twists in my stomach. We’re outnumbered, outgunned, and they have the upper hand because of the damn potion they poisoned us with.

“You waited until the deal with the ‘Ndrangheta was finalized,” I say, the pieces slowly coming together. “You have bigger plans, don’t you?”

Miller’s smile is as cold as ice. “Oh, yes. We have big plans.”

“Well, I hate to disappoint you, but it’s not going to go the way you think. You won’t be the Fondatori king for Venezia.”

“No, I won’t,” Miller agrees, his voice unnervingly calm. He points to another vampire approaching from the back of the Duomo. The man is tall and broad-shouldered, his bald head gleaming under the flickering candlelight. “He will.” Miller’s grin widens as the man stepsup beside him. “Meet Ardit Marku. He’s got the ambition. I’m perfectly satisfied where I am.”

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